Chapter 4: The Man Behind the Accident
The man standing behind me was the last person I expected to see.
My father.
James Carter.
He wore a charcoal-gray suit, a white shirt, and a dark-blue tie. His silver hair was neatly combed, and his expression was so controlled that anyone who didn't know him might have mistaken him for a businessman arriving at an ordinary corporate function.
But I knew my father.
I knew the small scar above his left eyebrow.
I knew the way his jaw tightened whenever he was angry.
And I knew the look in his eyes when he was hiding something.
“Dad?””
He looked at me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he glanced toward Brooke.
“Congratulations,” he said quietly.
“You finally stood up.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What are you doing here?””
My father adjusted his cufflinks.
“I received an invitation.””
“That doesn't answer my question.””
He looked toward Marcus.
“Perhaps your attorney should explain.””
Marcus stepped between us.
“Mr. Carter, we weren't expecting you.””
“Clearly.””
My father reached into his jacket and removed a small black envelope.
He placed it on the nearest table.
“Before anyone makes another accusation, I suggest you look at what's inside.””
Chad immediately stepped forward.
“James, this is a private matter.””
My father turned toward him.
“Private?””
He gave a short laugh.
“Thirty-eight million dollars disappeared from a company account, my son was nearly killed, and you're calling this private?””
Brooke looked between them.
“James, please. You don't understand what's happening.””
My father stared at her.
“I understand considerably more than you think.””
I picked up the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of my car in the parking garage, taken eleven days before the accident.
A man stood beside it.
He wore a maintenance uniform and carried a black toolbox.
I recognized him.
“That's Raymond,” I said.
Marcus nodded.
“Raymond Ellis. The mechanic who signed the inspection report.””
I looked at my father.
“Why do you have this?””
He didn't answer.
I pulled out another photograph.
It showed Raymond standing beside a black luxury sedan.
The driver was partially visible.
A familiar watch caught my attention.
Chad wore that exact watch tonight.
I looked at him.
“That's your car.””
Chad shook his head.
“That's ridiculous.””
My father stepped forward.
“Chad, I wouldn't recommend lying in front of people who have already seen the original footage.””
Chad's expression changed.
Brooke grabbed his arm.
“What footage?””
He pulled away.
“Not now.””
I turned toward my father.
“Dad, explain.””
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said something that made my stomach tighten.
“I knew about the company transfers before your accident.””
I stared at him.
“You knew?””
“I suspected something was wrong.””
“And you didn't tell me?””
“I tried.””
“When?””
“Three days before the crash. I called you twice. You were in meetings.””
I shook my head.
“That doesn't explain why you kept quiet afterward.””
My father lowered his eyes.
“I was investigating.””
I laughed bitterly.
“You were investigating while I was learning how to walk again?””
His expression hardened.
“I was trying to find out who had arranged the accident without putting you in greater danger.””
I stepped closer.
“You could have told me.””
“And what would you have done? Confronted them? With what evidence?””
I couldn't answer.
He continued.
“I made a mistake by waiting too long. I know that.””
His voice softened.
“But I never stopped protecting you.””
Brooke suddenly interrupted.
“This is insane. James, you're making accusations without understanding the situation.””
My father turned toward her.
“You want to discuss the situation?””
He pointed toward the cream-colored document in Marcus's hands.
“Let's discuss the $6.2 million transfer from the family investment account.””
Brooke went pale.
Chad looked at her.
“What transfer?””
My father removed another paper from his jacket.
“The transfer that paid for Raymond Ellis to disappear after the accident.””
I stared at him.
“Disappear?””
Marcus nodded.
“Raymond left Georgia two days after Ethan's accident. We tracked a payment to an account registered in his name.””
My father looked at Chad.
“And the payment originated from a company controlled by Whitmore Capital.””
Chad shook his head.
“You can't prove I authorized it.””
My father smiled without warmth.
“That's where you're mistaken.””
He turned toward me.
“Ethan, there's something else.””
“What?””
“The mechanic didn't arrange the accident alone.””
My eyes moved toward Brooke.
She was trembling.
My father continued.
“Someone gave him access to the vehicle. Someone knew when you would be leaving the office. Someone provided the route.””
I looked at Brooke.
“Who?””
She shook her head rapidly.
“I don't know what he's talking about.””
My father removed a folded sheet.
“Your access card was used in the parking garage at 8:42 p.m. the night before the accident.””
Brooke stared at the paper.
“That wasn't me.””
“The camera shows you entering.””
“I was meeting someone.””
“Who?””
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Chad grabbed her wrist.
“Don't say anything.””
I watched him.
“Why are you so worried about what she says?””
He released her.
“Because she's emotional and you're manipulating her.””
I took another step.
“Chad, I spent six months in a wheelchair because somebody wanted my company.””
He looked away.
“That's not what happened.””
“Then tell me what happened.””
He said nothing.
The ballroom had become completely silent.
Guests were no longer pretending to enjoy the evening. Some had taken out their phones. Others were whispering behind champagne glasses.
Richard Hale, the former investment committee member, started moving toward the exit.
Marcus noticed.
“Mr. Hale.””
Richard stopped.
“Where are you going?””
“I have nothing to do with this.””
Marcus raised a hand.
“Actually, we have several documents with your signature.””
Richard's face tightened.
“I was following board instructions.””
“Whose instructions?””
Richard looked toward Chad.
That was answer enough.
My father approached me.
“Ethan, there's a reason I came tonight.””
I looked at him.
“What reason?””
He glanced at Brooke.
“She isn't the person who arranged the accident.””
I felt the room tilt.
“What?””
My father lowered his voice.
“Brooke helped them access the vehicle. She supplied information. She participated in the financial fraud.””
Brooke began crying.
“James, please!””
“But the order came from someone else.””
I stared at him.
“Who?””
My father looked toward the ballroom entrance.
“Someone who has been trying to buy Carter Meridian since before you founded it.””
A figure stepped out from behind the marble columns.
A tall white man in his early sixties.
Silver hair.
Black suit.
Gold cufflinks.
A familiar face.
I hadn't seen him in almost a year.
But I remembered his name.
Victor Whitmore.
Chad's father.
The billionaire who had financed his son's ambitions.
The man who had once offered to mentor me.
He walked toward us with a calm expression.
“James,” he said.
“You always did enjoy making an entrance.””
My father didn't move.
“Victor.””
Victor glanced at my wheelchair.
Then at me standing beside it.
“Well,” he said, smiling faintly.
“This is an unexpected development.””
I stared at him.
“Did you arrange my accident?””
He took a champagne glass from a passing waiter.
“That's a very serious accusation.””
“Answer the question.””
Victor took a sip.
“Your father and I have disagreed about business for years. I would hate to see that disagreement become personal.””
I looked at Chad.
His face had become almost colorless.
Then I looked back at Victor.
“Your son was in the garage.””
Victor's smile faded.
“Be careful, Ethan.””
My father stepped forward.
“That's enough.””
Victor set his glass down.
“You have no idea what you're dealing with.””
I looked at him.
“Neither did I six months ago.””
Victor leaned closer.
“Then perhaps you should have stayed in that wheelchair.””
A gasp moved through the room.
Grace stepped forward.
Marcus immediately reached for his phone.
And my father did something I had never seen him do before.
He laughed.
Not because Victor's words were funny.
Because he knew something Victor didn't.
“Victor,” my father said, “you should probably ask your son why the original ownership agreement contains your signature.””
Victor's expression changed.
For the first time that evening, the billionaire looked frightened.
And then Marcus opened the cream-colored folder to a page I hadn't seen before.
May you like
At the bottom was a name.
*VICTOR WHITMORE.*
